I was just interviewed for an ABC.com article about women who go overboard primping for the childbirth photos they plan to post on Facebook or their blogs. While I fully support a mother’s right to create her own birthing experience I certainly have my own opinion on the matter.
Leave the lip gloss at home.
I’m seeing birthing plans that rival wedding plans, y’all. Plans that have more to do with candles, music, ensembles and hair and makeup than the actual birth of the baby.
I was recently watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Phaedra Parks is expecting a child and there’s this scene of her pulling about ten grand worth of lingerie out of a shopping bag.
“This one is for when I check into the hospital and this one is for when I’m in labor. This outfit is for when I actually deliver and this one is for after the delivery. Ooooh and this one is for when I leave the hospital.”
I’m pretty sure Phaedra was lining up a makeup artist and professional photographer for the whole affair as well. I guess what I’m saying is when making a birth plan and a list of what to bring to the hospital, don’t get so carried away with stuff like makeup and your hair. I understand you want to post photos on Facebook or your blog. But there’s something about trying so hard to look beautiful that ruins the beauty of the moment, ya dig?
In fact, I’ll go so far as to argue that a stringy-haired, puffy-faced mama holding her newborn is infinitely more beautiful than the woman in the chic nursing ensemble with blow-dried hair and so much lip gloss lacquered on it looks like she just ate a greasy lamp chop without the assistance of a napkin.
When I was pregnant with my daughter I bought into the hype. Kind of. I read every mommy blog I could, every list of What To Bring To The Hospital and began to compile my own. Bring your own shampoo and conditioner, someone advised. I even went to WalMart and bought an XXL muumuu-type number to give birth in, because, as one blogger put it, you DO NOT want to give birth in one of those god-awful hospital gowns.
I wore the god-awful hospital gown the whole time. It wasn’t so god-awful. It didn’t even occur to me to change out of it for the first few days and then I sent Serge home for a giant pair of old sweats and one of his t-shirts. And wash my hair while at the hospital? Forget about it. I think it took me another three or four days after I got home to properly wash and shave.
And I love the photos my husband took. Jacked up hair, tired, puffy eyes and all. I worked hard that day. Harder than I ever have in my life. And you should know that! Behold! The tired mother who pushed a human from her loins!
But listen, your birth experience is your thing. I’m just here to throw in my two cents. Take it or leave it. I’d still like to see your birth photos, styled hair and lip gloss or no. Got any links? Post ’em up!